two_grey_rooms: (paddlebrains and werewolf)
someday in the not-too-distant future i will make some sort of substantive contribution to this hurr livejournal. today is not that day. in the meantime, you can:

Comment on this entry, and:

❶ I'll respond by asking you five questions to satisfy my curiosity.
❷ Update your journal with the answers to your questions.
❸ Include this explanation and offer to ask other people questions.


[livejournal.com profile] cascades, who is an utter nutball, gave me these questions:

1. REMEMBER BLUE-SKIDOO FROM BLUE'S CLUES? when blue could transport into pictures and books? well, if you could blue-skidoo into any book, which would you choose?
NO, ACTUALLY, I DON'T, BUT I'LL FORGIVE YOU YOUR TRESPASSES AND ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION. and it's a very good question at that, i have to say. lovely variation on the usual "with which character would you most like to chill?" deal. aaaand my aaaanswer iiis...tales from outer suburbia, by shaun tan. yes, it is a picture book; it's essentially magical realism for kids. and shit-wow, i wish that description could do it justice. magical realism restores a sense of wonder, so i feel odd applying it to a children's book, because when you're a kid, magic is commonplace anyway. [livejournal.com profile] archy_the_roach introduced me to this book a couple of months ago, well past my childhood, and still it moved me on a very visceral level; it curled its way deep underneath my skin, successfully hijacking the place i reserve for favorite songs and uncomfortably revealing dreams.

the following tangent doesn't answer this question, but as this is my livejournal, i shall abuse my memes however i see fit. the book that most successfully translated the world i inhabit into a tangible place is palimpsest, by catherynne m. valente. it feels like my own headspace reflected back to me, in all its ugliness and desperation and incandescence. palimpsest is a part of me, located somewhere just beyond tales from outer suburbia, somewhere within my ribcage, possibly.

i also really pathetically wish i could beam myself into [livejournal.com profile] shoebox_project, although that's not a book at all. it feels like home to me, in only the way your very favorite stories do. yes, i know it is a fucking fan fiction, and i lose all lit cred for admitting this. i am okay with that!

2. if you could choose to live in a different century, would you? or would you rather stay in the 21st?
fuck, no. i'm not big on romanticizing the past. humans do a pretty good job of fucking up the planet, but i remain (perhaps stupidly) a firm believer in progress. i want to continue to live just where i am and do whatever i can to bring the world a little closer to the place i believe it can be. we owe the past a lot: everything we have now, in fact. it'd be an insult to want to shave off a few decades. reminds me of holden caulfield on his merry-go-round, caught in a loop and still looking perpetually backwards. to that image, i say: no, thank you. i want to go forward. because do you know what we have now? MOTHERFUCKING JETPACKS. suck on that.

3. have you ever wanted to have any kind of exotic pet? (i always wanted a wolf when i was little.)
i want a tarantula! no, seriously. i do believe that counts as exotic. and i'll be boring and confess that when i was little, i totally wanted a dragon. still do, because i am the muggle incarnation of hagrid. although the former desire is a bit likelier to be fulfilled than the latter.

4. when you retire as an old wrinkly lady, what do you want to do with your free time?
accumulate wrinkles. play bingo; use the panoply of medications i'll undoubtedly be on as markers. laugh at my hideously disfigured tattoos. have many spiders as pets. run amok. naked, preferably. be the nut in the neighborhood all the little kids are terrified of.

5. do you have any sort of ~security blanket~ that you keep around from when you were little? mine is a stuffed animal, a goat named djali. FROM THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME, REMEMBER? esmeralda's pet goat. he has an earring! he's pretty bamf.
ONCE AGAIN, NO I DO NOT REMEMBER, BUT THANKS FOR TRYING. security blanket? you mean like a straitjacket? some of my friends would argue that i need one of those these days. i, um. don't have an actual remnant from childhood on hand? because i have no soul. well, okay, i did have this purple stuffed dog (creatively named "peace") that i used as a sort of talisman. i've yet to hand her over to the EVILS OF SUNNYSIDE throw or give her away, so that may say something about the state of my immortal soul (mostly that it's comprised of 100% pure unadulterated LAZINESS).

speaking of the sorry state of my soul, the latest regina spektor song manages to make me weep every. damn. time. and i've listened to it like twenty times at this point. it's slowly becoming tiresome. you should download it and join me in my blubbering! (and i do recognize the irony in my inadvertently prefacing this paean to childhood with an anti-holden caulfield rant. do i have my holden moments? yup. do i want to be holden caulfield? hell, no, bitches.)

lyrics, for posterity. also because they're fucking gorgeous. )
two_grey_rooms: (paddlebrains and werewolf)
someday in the not-too-distant future i will make some sort of substantive contribution to this hurr livejournal. today is not that day. in the meantime, you can:

Comment on this entry, and:

❶ I'll respond by asking you five questions to satisfy my curiosity.
❷ Update your journal with the answers to your questions.
❸ Include this explanation and offer to ask other people questions.


[livejournal.com profile] cascades, who is an utter nutball, gave me these questions:

1. REMEMBER BLUE-SKIDOO FROM BLUE'S CLUES? when blue could transport into pictures and books? well, if you could blue-skidoo into any book, which would you choose?
NO, ACTUALLY, I DON'T, BUT I'LL FORGIVE YOU YOUR TRESPASSES AND ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION. and it's a very good question at that, i have to say. lovely variation on the usual "with which character would you most like to chill?" deal. aaaand my aaaanswer iiis...tales from outer suburbia, by shaun tan. yes, it is a picture book; it's essentially magical realism for kids. and shit-wow, i wish that description could do it justice. magical realism restores a sense of wonder, so i feel odd applying it to a children's book, because when you're a kid, magic is commonplace anyway. [livejournal.com profile] archy_the_roach introduced me to this book a couple of months ago, well past my childhood, and still it moved me on a very visceral level; it curled its way deep underneath my skin, successfully hijacking the place i reserve for favorite songs and uncomfortably revealing dreams.

the following tangent doesn't answer this question, but as this is my livejournal, i shall abuse my memes however i see fit. the book that most successfully translated the world i inhabit into a tangible place is palimpsest, by catherynne m. valente. it feels like my own headspace reflected back to me, in all its ugliness and desperation and incandescence. palimpsest is a part of me, located somewhere just beyond tales from outer suburbia, somewhere within my ribcage, possibly.

i also really pathetically wish i could beam myself into [livejournal.com profile] shoebox_project, although that's not a book at all. it feels like home to me, in only the way your very favorite stories do. yes, i know it is a fucking fan fiction, and i lose all lit cred for admitting this. i am okay with that!

2. if you could choose to live in a different century, would you? or would you rather stay in the 21st?
fuck, no. i'm not big on romanticizing the past. humans do a pretty good job of fucking up the planet, but i remain (perhaps stupidly) a firm believer in progress. i want to continue to live just where i am and do whatever i can to bring the world a little closer to the place i believe it can be. we owe the past a lot: everything we have now, in fact. it'd be an insult to want to shave off a few decades. reminds me of holden caulfield on his merry-go-round, caught in a loop and still looking perpetually backwards. to that image, i say: no, thank you. i want to go forward. because do you know what we have now? MOTHERFUCKING JETPACKS. suck on that.

3. have you ever wanted to have any kind of exotic pet? (i always wanted a wolf when i was little.)
i want a tarantula! no, seriously. i do believe that counts as exotic. and i'll be boring and confess that when i was little, i totally wanted a dragon. still do, because i am the muggle incarnation of hagrid. although the former desire is a bit likelier to be fulfilled than the latter.

4. when you retire as an old wrinkly lady, what do you want to do with your free time?
accumulate wrinkles. play bingo; use the panoply of medications i'll undoubtedly be on as markers. laugh at my hideously disfigured tattoos. have many spiders as pets. run amok. naked, preferably. be the nut in the neighborhood all the little kids are terrified of.

5. do you have any sort of ~security blanket~ that you keep around from when you were little? mine is a stuffed animal, a goat named djali. FROM THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME, REMEMBER? esmeralda's pet goat. he has an earring! he's pretty bamf.
ONCE AGAIN, NO I DO NOT REMEMBER, BUT THANKS FOR TRYING. security blanket? you mean like a straitjacket? some of my friends would argue that i need one of those these days. i, um. don't have an actual remnant from childhood on hand? because i have no soul. well, okay, i did have this purple stuffed dog (creatively named "peace") that i used as a sort of talisman. i've yet to hand her over to the EVILS OF SUNNYSIDE throw or give her away, so that may say something about the state of my immortal soul (mostly that it's comprised of 100% pure unadulterated LAZINESS).

speaking of the sorry state of my soul, the latest regina spektor song manages to make me weep every. damn. time. and i've listened to it like twenty times at this point. it's slowly becoming tiresome. you should download it and join me in my blubbering! (and i do recognize the irony in my inadvertently prefacing this paean to childhood with an anti-holden caulfield rant. do i have my holden moments? yup. do i want to be holden caulfield? hell, no, bitches.)

lyrics, for posterity. also because they're fucking gorgeous. )
two_grey_rooms: (careful with your projections.)
there's a difference between empathy and compassion. it's easy to be empathetic, even natural, because all you have to do is have lived and retain the ability to recognize yourself in others. empathy flourishes over distance, but compassion is something more immediate and much more difficult to develop. i can empathize infinitely, but actually offering up compassion for another human being takes a lot of work. i can be moved by someone else's tribulations; i can feel terrible and write poetry and wish there were something more substantial i could do; i begin also to empathize with the prayerful. but i don't know if it's possible to extend real compassion to anyone other than the people with whom i am absolutely closest. if i call up the estranged aunt with the dying sister, would she receive it as a hollow gesture? or would it be awkward, a hopelessly tangled situation? if i do call her, it's more about her relationship to me than it is to her sister. does it bring comfort to develop new ties when old ones are severed, or does it merely augment the absence?

i can donate money to relief programs for the poor and the hungry; i can join organizations and try to make the world a better place. i will do these things, but compassion drives none of them. i can't even say empathy plays a part, because although i have lived through some horrible things, i have no way of approximating how these people feel because my experiences are completely separate from theirs. my desire to do what i can to heal the earth has a lot more to do with a desire to be useful, to create a purpose for myself, to touch something with my own hands and hope to be able to say, "i've made this better, because i was here." there's a lot of selfishness wrapped up in charity. i don't feel like i am a better or worse person because of it, necessarily. isn't that all anyone can do? figure out what is best, put your ideas forth into actions, with no real way of knowing what their consequences will be, and hope for the best. i have yet to construct a better plan of action.

empathy burns most strongly for my closest friends and family members, and even sometimes for livejournal friends. (there's something to be said for proffering your intimate thoughts to perfect strangers.) compassion follows naturally, but i've noticed that it still takes a bit of work to actually put forth. compassion is more than an expression of condolences, or a nod of the head. it's forcing yourself to feel with another human being, not for them. it involves offering your most honest thoughts and as much of your time as you are able to. maybe the desire to mend ties and build sanctuaries comes from reading too many novels: i devote so much energy to empathizing with fictional people and their fictional worlds that i need some palpable outlet for all that healing energy. and healing energy is what it is, i think.

but compassion is what makes lives worth living, isn't it? it's love made tangible. it's that little moment where you just go, "ah. right. okay. that's what i'm doing here." it's the reason for, and the zenith of, all the best friendships. i've made a lot of those really impossibly great friendships lately, and i'm sort of bewildered as to how i got here. bewildered, but also grateful. it's a good one to be in, this place.

i don't mean to sound supercilious here at all, and i hope i don't sound too sentimental (impossible not to be at least slightly sentimental, when talking about compassion and love, but i am too much of a hopeless sap to be bothered by this). i don't mean to imply a universal "you" either. yeah, this is one of those posts: by "you," i mean "me." i just...had this thought, about the difference between empathy and compassion, and i wanted to get it down, see if anyone else thinks i'm making any sense or if i am just talking out my ass.
two_grey_rooms: (careful with your projections.)
there's a difference between empathy and compassion. it's easy to be empathetic, even natural, because all you have to do is have lived and retain the ability to recognize yourself in others. empathy flourishes over distance, but compassion is something more immediate and much more difficult to develop. i can empathize infinitely, but actually offering up compassion for another human being takes a lot of work. i can be moved by someone else's tribulations; i can feel terrible and write poetry and wish there were something more substantial i could do; i begin also to empathize with the prayerful. but i don't know if it's possible to extend real compassion to anyone other than the people with whom i am absolutely closest. if i call up the estranged aunt with the dying sister, would she receive it as a hollow gesture? or would it be awkward, a hopelessly tangled situation? if i do call her, it's more about her relationship to me than it is to her sister. does it bring comfort to develop new ties when old ones are severed, or does it merely augment the absence?

i can donate money to relief programs for the poor and the hungry; i can join organizations and try to make the world a better place. i will do these things, but compassion drives none of them. i can't even say empathy plays a part, because although i have lived through some horrible things, i have no way of approximating how these people feel because my experiences are completely separate from theirs. my desire to do what i can to heal the earth has a lot more to do with a desire to be useful, to create a purpose for myself, to touch something with my own hands and hope to be able to say, "i've made this better, because i was here." there's a lot of selfishness wrapped up in charity. i don't feel like i am a better or worse person because of it, necessarily. isn't that all anyone can do? figure out what is best, put your ideas forth into actions, with no real way of knowing what their consequences will be, and hope for the best. i have yet to construct a better plan of action.

empathy burns most strongly for my closest friends and family members, and even sometimes for livejournal friends. (there's something to be said for proffering your intimate thoughts to perfect strangers.) compassion follows naturally, but i've noticed that it still takes a bit of work to actually put forth. compassion is more than an expression of condolences, or a nod of the head. it's forcing yourself to feel with another human being, not for them. it involves offering your most honest thoughts and as much of your time as you are able to. maybe the desire to mend ties and build sanctuaries comes from reading too many novels: i devote so much energy to empathizing with fictional people and their fictional worlds that i need some palpable outlet for all that healing energy. and healing energy is what it is, i think.

but compassion is what makes lives worth living, isn't it? it's love made tangible. it's that little moment where you just go, "ah. right. okay. that's what i'm doing here." it's the reason for, and the zenith of, all the best friendships. i've made a lot of those really impossibly great friendships lately, and i'm sort of bewildered as to how i got here. bewildered, but also grateful. it's a good one to be in, this place.

i don't mean to sound supercilious here at all, and i hope i don't sound too sentimental (impossible not to be at least slightly sentimental, when talking about compassion and love, but i am too much of a hopeless sap to be bothered by this). i don't mean to imply a universal "you" either. yeah, this is one of those posts: by "you," i mean "me." i just...had this thought, about the difference between empathy and compassion, and i wanted to get it down, see if anyone else thinks i'm making any sense or if i am just talking out my ass.
two_grey_rooms: (throw off these chains)
certainity certainithy certainty

i can never seem to type the word certainty with any conviction.
two_grey_rooms: (throw off these chains)
certainity certainithy certainty

i can never seem to type the word certainty with any conviction.
two_grey_rooms: (Default)
do you know what i am? A LIAR. a wretched, wretched liar.

well. maybe not entirely. i am sort of an accidental liar, which isn't really lying at all, is it (IS IT?). i am just chronically indecisive, i suppose (OR AM I?).

yeah. if that last declaration didn't give you a headache, i applaud you for your stamina. i'm not leaving after all. but i'm manifestly phasing back into livejournal, and that mandates a bit of tidying up. which means: IMPENDING FRIENDS CUT AHOOOOOOY. and there ain't no pussy-footin' around when i cut friends. BITCH, I WILL CUT YOU, AND THAT IS A THREAT. MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS.

...oh ho, had you going, didn't i? yeah. there will be no friends cut. i just wanted to sit back and watch the good ol'-fashioned lj-style shitstorm. ah, it's good to be home.

well. i did delete a few accounts from my flist. but um. i didn't remember adding them to begin with? if you're reading this right now and you think i made a grievous mistake, please chime in and deliver me a harangue about what an idiot i am.

yeah, so. in conclusion: i'm a dunderhead. a dunderhead who is keeping this account--but there may yet be a name change in store, so keep yer eyes out fer that plox.

hmm. so as to allow myself to pretend that there is in fact some substance in this post, i am going to tell you about a website i am currently loving the fuck out of. it is called weheartit.com (or "we hear tit," as i'd originally pronounced it, which i infinitely prefer), and it's a place where you pack-rat all your favorite images. like delicious, but specifically for shiny things. or: like flickr, but for those who prefer plagiarism to industry--erm, i mean collecting to creating. here's muh heart. you should get an account there too, and we could "follow" each other like the stalkers we are.

tonight i realized that collins is my favorite rent character. if i were a facebook quiz, i would think this truth spoke volumes about me. but seriously, folks, why is collins never anyone's favorite? this befuddles me. collins is the man. i want to smash the state with him, and then get wicked drunk and laugh about how totally ridiculous we are.

...yeah, rent. i always listen to rent 'round the holidays. who else here does that? ADMIT IT, GODLESS SODOMITES. or at the very least, admit you're a godless sodomite.

anyway. yeah. merry christmas to all you godless sodomites and to all you christian folk who actually celebrate the holiday. enjoy your eggnog. and i hope the monstrous number of times i've said "yeah" in this entry didn't spoil your holiday cheer.
two_grey_rooms: (Default)
do you know what i am? A LIAR. a wretched, wretched liar.

well. maybe not entirely. i am sort of an accidental liar, which isn't really lying at all, is it (IS IT?). i am just chronically indecisive, i suppose (OR AM I?).

yeah. if that last declaration didn't give you a headache, i applaud you for your stamina. i'm not leaving after all. but i'm manifestly phasing back into livejournal, and that mandates a bit of tidying up. which means: IMPENDING FRIENDS CUT AHOOOOOOY. and there ain't no pussy-footin' around when i cut friends. BITCH, I WILL CUT YOU, AND THAT IS A THREAT. MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS.

...oh ho, had you going, didn't i? yeah. there will be no friends cut. i just wanted to sit back and watch the good ol'-fashioned lj-style shitstorm. ah, it's good to be home.

well. i did delete a few accounts from my flist. but um. i didn't remember adding them to begin with? if you're reading this right now and you think i made a grievous mistake, please chime in and deliver me a harangue about what an idiot i am.

yeah, so. in conclusion: i'm a dunderhead. a dunderhead who is keeping this account--but there may yet be a name change in store, so keep yer eyes out fer that plox.

hmm. so as to allow myself to pretend that there is in fact some substance in this post, i am going to tell you about a website i am currently loving the fuck out of. it is called weheartit.com (or "we hear tit," as i'd originally pronounced it, which i infinitely prefer), and it's a place where you pack-rat all your favorite images. like delicious, but specifically for shiny things. or: like flickr, but for those who prefer plagiarism to industry--erm, i mean collecting to creating. here's muh heart. you should get an account there too, and we could "follow" each other like the stalkers we are.

tonight i realized that collins is my favorite rent character. if i were a facebook quiz, i would think this truth spoke volumes about me. but seriously, folks, why is collins never anyone's favorite? this befuddles me. collins is the man. i want to smash the state with him, and then get wicked drunk and laugh about how totally ridiculous we are.

...yeah, rent. i always listen to rent 'round the holidays. who else here does that? ADMIT IT, GODLESS SODOMITES. or at the very least, admit you're a godless sodomite.

anyway. yeah. merry christmas to all you godless sodomites and to all you christian folk who actually celebrate the holiday. enjoy your eggnog. and i hope the monstrous number of times i've said "yeah" in this entry didn't spoil your holiday cheer.
two_grey_rooms: (careful with your projections.)
um. hi.

i'm not certain i'm going to be keeping this livejournal around much longer. my paid account runs out soon, and then i've either resolved to start anew, or dump the process of semi-public journaling altogether. all right, so i'm lying to you. the word resolve generally implies a concrete decision with no haphazard either strewn about; its preterit tense, resolved, is even sturdier.

i'm in a weird sort of mood tonight.

no. disregard that last paragraph. the thing is, i do miss journaling. i just don't miss the sort of journaling i wound up vomiting up in here. it became too...self-conscious. there was nothing remotely useful or honest about it. i would like it to be a place where i can come and be profoundly frivolous or unrelentingly personal. i would like to keep up with all the cool discussion that goes down 'round these here parts. livejournal isn't something i actually want to cancel out of my life, i don't think. it's a pretty groovy place.

but hey, i've, you know, had this journal since the sixth fucking grade. in its ripe old age, it's become a palimpsest of glittery eleven-year-old flapdoodle and...whatever it is i have in the present tense.

so yeah, in my circuitous-ass way, i am sort of saying goodbye, but i'm not really going away. especially because there are certain people i definitely do want to keep up with, or start fresh with when i make a new account. and when i do make a new account, you guys'll be the first to know. and of course, if you don't care about this journal anymore and you can't even remember friending me in the first place, feel free to permanently de-friend. it'd be nice if you'd say goodbye though.

for now you can reach me at neologist@mail.com (no g; no hot; just mail) or gardeniaxtalk on aim. if you drop me a private message, i'll give you my facebook and/or cell number*.

peace out.

*this offer is exclusive to those with whom i feel comfortable enough, of course.
two_grey_rooms: (careful with your projections.)
um. hi.

i'm not certain i'm going to be keeping this livejournal around much longer. my paid account runs out soon, and then i've either resolved to start anew, or dump the process of semi-public journaling altogether. all right, so i'm lying to you. the word resolve generally implies a concrete decision with no haphazard either strewn about; its preterit tense, resolved, is even sturdier.

i'm in a weird sort of mood tonight.

no. disregard that last paragraph. the thing is, i do miss journaling. i just don't miss the sort of journaling i wound up vomiting up in here. it became too...self-conscious. there was nothing remotely useful or honest about it. i would like it to be a place where i can come and be profoundly frivolous or unrelentingly personal. i would like to keep up with all the cool discussion that goes down 'round these here parts. livejournal isn't something i actually want to cancel out of my life, i don't think. it's a pretty groovy place.

but hey, i've, you know, had this journal since the sixth fucking grade. in its ripe old age, it's become a palimpsest of glittery eleven-year-old flapdoodle and...whatever it is i have in the present tense.

so yeah, in my circuitous-ass way, i am sort of saying goodbye, but i'm not really going away. especially because there are certain people i definitely do want to keep up with, or start fresh with when i make a new account. and when i do make a new account, you guys'll be the first to know. and of course, if you don't care about this journal anymore and you can't even remember friending me in the first place, feel free to permanently de-friend. it'd be nice if you'd say goodbye though.

for now you can reach me at neologist@mail.com (no g; no hot; just mail) or gardeniaxtalk on aim. if you drop me a private message, i'll give you my facebook and/or cell number*.

peace out.

*this offer is exclusive to those with whom i feel comfortable enough, of course.
two_grey_rooms: (Default)
you guys. I've been uploading new icons, and I was all content and whatnot, and then. I came across this one. and realized. i have no idea what the shit is going on in it. uhh seriously WHAT THE COCKING SHIT AM I LOOKING AT. SOMEBODY HALP.

EDIT: I HEREBY DECREE THIS FLIST THE GREATEST FLIST OF ALL TIME. And I hereby decree the comments to this post The Rorschach Circus. y'all are hilarious, tysm for all your enlightening interpretations.
two_grey_rooms: (Default)
you guys. I've been uploading new icons, and I was all content and whatnot, and then. I came across this one. and realized. i have no idea what the shit is going on in it. uhh seriously WHAT THE COCKING SHIT AM I LOOKING AT. SOMEBODY HALP.

EDIT: I HEREBY DECREE THIS FLIST THE GREATEST FLIST OF ALL TIME. And I hereby decree the comments to this post The Rorschach Circus. y'all are hilarious, tysm for all your enlightening interpretations.
two_grey_rooms: (and we remain quite strangers)
I...just felt compelled to add myself as a livejournal friend, for reasons I am finding difficult to articulate. Uhm. Some possible explanations I am entertaining in the face of a TOTAL VOID OF LOGIC:

1. This course of action clearly promotes the illusion of self-confidence. I am even considering someday finding it a place on a shiny, shiny college resume.

2. OR MAYBE it is of a profane nature and doesn't belong in such an overwhelmingly scrupulous environment: maybe I have actually just answered the eternal question would I do me? (I WOULD, AND I DO, IN CASE YOU MISSED THAT.)

2. OR MAYBE it is actually a masochistic Cave of Solitude. HOW WILL I EVER FRIEND ME BACK? WHAT IF I DRIVE ME TO FLOUNCIFICATION? I DON'T THINK I AM BUILT TO SURVIVE THIS KINDA ANGST. D: D: D:

3. ...and now I'm too busy weeping piteously to think of any more reasons. *BASKS IN LONELY LIVEJOURNAL DESPERADO-DOM* (I am totally badass enough to be a desperado okay. I am at least an outlaw in the face of LOGIC, and no one can deny that.)

[Poll #1397035]

...my brain, sometimes ze is inane as all hell. And I mean the doctor's-waiting-room level of hell reserved for procrastinators, I guess, because otherwise the phrase "inane as all hell" doesn't actually make any SENSE, does it. Because fire and brimstone are much more terrifying and smelly than they are inane. In other, much more pressing news, tea is delicious. Do you know who is even more delicious than tea? BETH MOTHERFUCKING DITTO, THAT'S WHO. THE GOSSIP HAS A NEW SINGLE OUT, YOU GUYS \o/ \o/ \o/. If you are unacquainted with Beth Ditto, she is all you ever need to know about awesomeness, pretty much. If you need any convincing, I would like to introduce you to [livejournal.com profile] ishyface's kick-ass picspam from forevers ago. I would also like to advertise the fact that an earbud has just found its way nearly up my left nostril, for reasons I am not sure enough of to report (read: I AM SO UNCOORDINATED THAT SOMETIMES THINGS WOT DON'T BELONG IN IMPOSSIBLE ORIFICES END UP THERE. that sounds horrifically double entendre-y, doesn't it ;__;). LET IT BE KNOWN THAT EVEN MY BOOGERS ARE RIOT GRRRLS. Also, this entry lacks any cohesive narrative. In case you hadn't noticed already. BRAIN, DO YOU THINK YOU COULD MANAGE TO SIT STILL FOR AWHILE? I WOULD BE VERY APPRECIATIVE, JUST SAYIN.

(ALSO, IT IS FRIDAY. I NO DO THE THINKY TOO WELL TONIGHT, BUT HEY! I LIKE THIS. DOUBLEPLUSGOOOOOD.)
two_grey_rooms: (and we remain quite strangers)
I...just felt compelled to add myself as a livejournal friend, for reasons I am finding difficult to articulate. Uhm. Some possible explanations I am entertaining in the face of a TOTAL VOID OF LOGIC:

1. This course of action clearly promotes the illusion of self-confidence. I am even considering someday finding it a place on a shiny, shiny college resume.

2. OR MAYBE it is of a profane nature and doesn't belong in such an overwhelmingly scrupulous environment: maybe I have actually just answered the eternal question would I do me? (I WOULD, AND I DO, IN CASE YOU MISSED THAT.)

2. OR MAYBE it is actually a masochistic Cave of Solitude. HOW WILL I EVER FRIEND ME BACK? WHAT IF I DRIVE ME TO FLOUNCIFICATION? I DON'T THINK I AM BUILT TO SURVIVE THIS KINDA ANGST. D: D: D:

3. ...and now I'm too busy weeping piteously to think of any more reasons. *BASKS IN LONELY LIVEJOURNAL DESPERADO-DOM* (I am totally badass enough to be a desperado okay. I am at least an outlaw in the face of LOGIC, and no one can deny that.)

[Poll #1397035]

...my brain, sometimes ze is inane as all hell. And I mean the doctor's-waiting-room level of hell reserved for procrastinators, I guess, because otherwise the phrase "inane as all hell" doesn't actually make any SENSE, does it. Because fire and brimstone are much more terrifying and smelly than they are inane. In other, much more pressing news, tea is delicious. Do you know who is even more delicious than tea? BETH MOTHERFUCKING DITTO, THAT'S WHO. THE GOSSIP HAS A NEW SINGLE OUT, YOU GUYS \o/ \o/ \o/. If you are unacquainted with Beth Ditto, she is all you ever need to know about awesomeness, pretty much. If you need any convincing, I would like to introduce you to [livejournal.com profile] ishyface's kick-ass picspam from forevers ago. I would also like to advertise the fact that an earbud has just found its way nearly up my left nostril, for reasons I am not sure enough of to report (read: I AM SO UNCOORDINATED THAT SOMETIMES THINGS WOT DON'T BELONG IN IMPOSSIBLE ORIFICES END UP THERE. that sounds horrifically double entendre-y, doesn't it ;__;). LET IT BE KNOWN THAT EVEN MY BOOGERS ARE RIOT GRRRLS. Also, this entry lacks any cohesive narrative. In case you hadn't noticed already. BRAIN, DO YOU THINK YOU COULD MANAGE TO SIT STILL FOR AWHILE? I WOULD BE VERY APPRECIATIVE, JUST SAYIN.

(ALSO, IT IS FRIDAY. I NO DO THE THINKY TOO WELL TONIGHT, BUT HEY! I LIKE THIS. DOUBLEPLUSGOOOOOD.)
two_grey_rooms: (your frozen respite)
I am--inexplicably, all-encompassingly fucking giddy right now, and I wish to tell you all about it! Really, today has just been this great long procession of tiny little lovely things that have collectively made me absurdly happy. Also they seem to make me want to blather fulsome adjective abuse into my livejournal. For this I apologize.

Just. I dunno! I didn't actually get out of my pajamas all day. There's going to be a snow day tomorrow, if I can trust the weather reports promising a blizzard of apocalyptic proportions. (Even if I end up having to wake up at 6:00, right now the snow is a pretty fabulous sight to behold.) My best friend called me at, like, the exact moment I was thinking of calling her before I got anywhere near the phone ("THAT'S SO CREEPY. WERE YOU GOING TO CALL TO TALK ABOUT TV ON THE RADIO?" which obviously I was. because we're connected at the brain). We are seeing TV on the Radio in Central Park in June, and I am going to have an excitement-induced coronary. I just realized I'm actually really pleased with my schedule for next year instead of freaking the fuck out over it (probably this will last just until my furlough from school ends on Tuesday and I go back to wanting to go join the fucking circus instead).

Speaking of TV on the Radio, I spent half the day listening to Return to Cookie Mountain. This is pretty pitiful, I think, but dancing around your room like a freak is indisputably awesome.

This is a really boring update! (I thought maybe I could salvage it with some exciting punctuation. Did it work?) I guess it's always really retarded to talk about happiness, isn't it, unless you're Naomi Shihab Nye or some shit. I guess I just want to be able to find this again, in a public post, and go, what the fuck was I thinking? this post is drivel. but I remember being weirdly enthused about it.

also I totally have to catch up on my memes! AND NOW WE REACH THE CRUX OF THE POST, TRULY. BECAUSE MEMES ARE SRS BSNS. come listen to me ramble some more, about drag kings who happen to be superheroes and mancrushes who happen to be gods and scandalous disavowals oh my )

Just for the record:
1. HOLY SHIT IT'S STILL SNOWING! If I stand outside in it and just look up, I get impossibly dizzy, and if vertigo were that wonderful all the time, everyone would be fucking dying of inner ear disorders.
2. If I do have to wake up in three and a half hours, I'm gonna choke a bitch.
3. If you actually read all that, I AM SO SORRY. I will send you apologetic arrangements of fruit in the mail. OH BUT I CAN RAMBLE :D :D
4. Apologies for being horribly behind on flist. Will rectify tomorrow, amidst SNOOOOW YAYE.
two_grey_rooms: (your frozen respite)
I am--inexplicably, all-encompassingly fucking giddy right now, and I wish to tell you all about it! Really, today has just been this great long procession of tiny little lovely things that have collectively made me absurdly happy. Also they seem to make me want to blather fulsome adjective abuse into my livejournal. For this I apologize.

Just. I dunno! I didn't actually get out of my pajamas all day. There's going to be a snow day tomorrow, if I can trust the weather reports promising a blizzard of apocalyptic proportions. (Even if I end up having to wake up at 6:00, right now the snow is a pretty fabulous sight to behold.) My best friend called me at, like, the exact moment I was thinking of calling her before I got anywhere near the phone ("THAT'S SO CREEPY. WERE YOU GOING TO CALL TO TALK ABOUT TV ON THE RADIO?" which obviously I was. because we're connected at the brain). We are seeing TV on the Radio in Central Park in June, and I am going to have an excitement-induced coronary. I just realized I'm actually really pleased with my schedule for next year instead of freaking the fuck out over it (probably this will last just until my furlough from school ends on Tuesday and I go back to wanting to go join the fucking circus instead).

Speaking of TV on the Radio, I spent half the day listening to Return to Cookie Mountain. This is pretty pitiful, I think, but dancing around your room like a freak is indisputably awesome.

This is a really boring update! (I thought maybe I could salvage it with some exciting punctuation. Did it work?) I guess it's always really retarded to talk about happiness, isn't it, unless you're Naomi Shihab Nye or some shit. I guess I just want to be able to find this again, in a public post, and go, what the fuck was I thinking? this post is drivel. but I remember being weirdly enthused about it.

also I totally have to catch up on my memes! AND NOW WE REACH THE CRUX OF THE POST, TRULY. BECAUSE MEMES ARE SRS BSNS. come listen to me ramble some more, about drag kings who happen to be superheroes and mancrushes who happen to be gods and scandalous disavowals oh my )

Just for the record:
1. HOLY SHIT IT'S STILL SNOWING! If I stand outside in it and just look up, I get impossibly dizzy, and if vertigo were that wonderful all the time, everyone would be fucking dying of inner ear disorders.
2. If I do have to wake up in three and a half hours, I'm gonna choke a bitch.
3. If you actually read all that, I AM SO SORRY. I will send you apologetic arrangements of fruit in the mail. OH BUT I CAN RAMBLE :D :D
4. Apologies for being horribly behind on flist. Will rectify tomorrow, amidst SNOOOOW YAYE.
two_grey_rooms: (Default)
HELLOOOOOOO, KIDS! ADULTS! MUSKRATS! GIRLS! BOYS! GENDERQUEER PEOPLE! WOMEN! MEN! FANTHINGS! COBRAS! LICHEN! PATHOGENS! ALL KATHLEENS EVERYWHERE WHO ARE LISTED DIRECTLY AFTER "PATHOGENS" SO AS TO PROVIDE AN AMPLE CONTRAST BECAUSE A KATHLEEN IS FACTUALLY COMPRISED OF HOLY WATER, MYSTERIOUS GOLDEN LIGHT, AND PONIES! ANY CATEGORIES OF LIFE I HAVE IGNORANTLY GLOSSED OVER IN MY HASTE TO BE CREEPILY EXUBERANT! HI. HI HI HI. SALUT! HOLA! HOLLA! ETC.

If you are unsure, yes, this is veritably [livejournal.com profile] two_grey_rooms, more commonly known as Ellie, and not some relation thereof asking you to please send your condolences to the family because Ellie has died in a tragic and untimely accident. Nor am I a spambot with a Trojan encoded in the exclamation-mark-y reign of terror wot you have witnessed above. I REPEAT, this is [Bad username or site: TWO_GREY_MOTHERFUCKING_ROOMS @ livejournal.com] in the FLESH on a COMPUTER CHAIR with a KEYBOARD. TALKING. TO YOU ALL. RIGHT. NOW. DO NOT BE ALARMED! (Also, I am not a zombie. evidently, I am. see comments to [livejournal.com profile] rain_explodes for details.)

I come bearing a sensational announcement: I AM ALIVE.

You know that thing that I haven't been doing? That thing that involves, idk, some reeeeal strenuous shit like idk ACTUALLY COMMUNICATING WITH ALL OF YOU LOVELY PEOPLE. Well. It should be, you know, happening from now on. This means that if you had me on an "I am not actually sure this person exists, and if they do, I do not want them reading my lj because they are probably using it for lethally dodgy and perhaps even lecherous purposes, oh my god I do not even remember consentually friending this user, will someone call the cops already" filter or some variant thereof, PLEASE TO BE RECTIFYING THIS. You are all awesome to purely absurd degrees, and I cannot even adequately convey how made of fail I have been.

HI, OLD PEOPLE! I cannot wait to get home from school tomorrow so we can ~~rekindle old flames and hopefully this rekindling will not involve too many instances of setting me on fire, even though my social skills and I thoroughly thoroughly deserve it.

HI, NEW PEOPLE! I think we should get to know each other like proper old chaps and I should not be a LJfucktard anymore! YOU ALL SEEM PROFOUNDLY AWESOME, EVEN IF YOU HAVE BEEN ON MY FLIST FOR SEVERAL MONTHS AND I AM STILL FORCED TO REFER TO YOU AS "NEW PEOPLE" BECAUSE OF AFOREMENTIONED EGREGIOUS SOCIAL SKILLS. \o/

Now I am going to get to bed, so I can pretend to be functional in five and a half hours, and then I can come home from school, probably sleep until I am declared catatonic, magically reanimate around dinnertime, and TALK TO YOU ALL ALL THE BLESSED FRIDAY-NIGHT LONG! It has been far, far, far, far, far too motherfucking long.

PS: WHOA MY LIVEJOURNAL IS LOOKING KIND OF FUNKY. By which I not only mean that I've had the same layout and user info since eighth grade, but uh. The text is all excruciatingly tiny, and yeah, this exercise in eye-killing is only happening on MY lj and no other pages at all? Can anyone think of a feasible reason for this, aside from due penance for neglecting the magical land of lj and betraying Jesus and killing Tinkerbell and whatnot? Oh dear me, internets is weird. I bet you have all missed my tedious lj-related technical questions so, so much ♥ ♥ ♥.
two_grey_rooms: (Default)
HELLOOOOOOO, KIDS! ADULTS! MUSKRATS! GIRLS! BOYS! GENDERQUEER PEOPLE! WOMEN! MEN! FANTHINGS! COBRAS! LICHEN! PATHOGENS! ALL KATHLEENS EVERYWHERE WHO ARE LISTED DIRECTLY AFTER "PATHOGENS" SO AS TO PROVIDE AN AMPLE CONTRAST BECAUSE A KATHLEEN IS FACTUALLY COMPRISED OF HOLY WATER, MYSTERIOUS GOLDEN LIGHT, AND PONIES! ANY CATEGORIES OF LIFE I HAVE IGNORANTLY GLOSSED OVER IN MY HASTE TO BE CREEPILY EXUBERANT! HI. HI HI HI. SALUT! HOLA! HOLLA! ETC.

If you are unsure, yes, this is veritably [livejournal.com profile] two_grey_rooms, more commonly known as Ellie, and not some relation thereof asking you to please send your condolences to the family because Ellie has died in a tragic and untimely accident. Nor am I a spambot with a Trojan encoded in the exclamation-mark-y reign of terror wot you have witnessed above. I REPEAT, this is [Bad username or site: TWO_GREY_MOTHERFUCKING_ROOMS @ livejournal.com] in the FLESH on a COMPUTER CHAIR with a KEYBOARD. TALKING. TO YOU ALL. RIGHT. NOW. DO NOT BE ALARMED! (Also, I am not a zombie. evidently, I am. see comments to [livejournal.com profile] rain_explodes for details.)

I come bearing a sensational announcement: I AM ALIVE.

You know that thing that I haven't been doing? That thing that involves, idk, some reeeeal strenuous shit like idk ACTUALLY COMMUNICATING WITH ALL OF YOU LOVELY PEOPLE. Well. It should be, you know, happening from now on. This means that if you had me on an "I am not actually sure this person exists, and if they do, I do not want them reading my lj because they are probably using it for lethally dodgy and perhaps even lecherous purposes, oh my god I do not even remember consentually friending this user, will someone call the cops already" filter or some variant thereof, PLEASE TO BE RECTIFYING THIS. You are all awesome to purely absurd degrees, and I cannot even adequately convey how made of fail I have been.

HI, OLD PEOPLE! I cannot wait to get home from school tomorrow so we can ~~rekindle old flames and hopefully this rekindling will not involve too many instances of setting me on fire, even though my social skills and I thoroughly thoroughly deserve it.

HI, NEW PEOPLE! I think we should get to know each other like proper old chaps and I should not be a LJfucktard anymore! YOU ALL SEEM PROFOUNDLY AWESOME, EVEN IF YOU HAVE BEEN ON MY FLIST FOR SEVERAL MONTHS AND I AM STILL FORCED TO REFER TO YOU AS "NEW PEOPLE" BECAUSE OF AFOREMENTIONED EGREGIOUS SOCIAL SKILLS. \o/

Now I am going to get to bed, so I can pretend to be functional in five and a half hours, and then I can come home from school, probably sleep until I am declared catatonic, magically reanimate around dinnertime, and TALK TO YOU ALL ALL THE BLESSED FRIDAY-NIGHT LONG! It has been far, far, far, far, far too motherfucking long.

PS: WHOA MY LIVEJOURNAL IS LOOKING KIND OF FUNKY. By which I not only mean that I've had the same layout and user info since eighth grade, but uh. The text is all excruciatingly tiny, and yeah, this exercise in eye-killing is only happening on MY lj and no other pages at all? Can anyone think of a feasible reason for this, aside from due penance for neglecting the magical land of lj and betraying Jesus and killing Tinkerbell and whatnot? Oh dear me, internets is weird. I bet you have all missed my tedious lj-related technical questions so, so much ♥ ♥ ♥.

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